


The Kiss

by JulesTheQuirky



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Best Friends, Cheating, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Language, F/M, Guilt, POV Alternating, Pregnancy, Regret, Sexual Content, Short Chapters, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulesTheQuirky/pseuds/JulesTheQuirky
Summary: You’re Misha’s best friend. Working with him on SPN had never been a problem, until one scene, forcing you both to admit certain truths about each other. And that’s really where all the problems begin…





	1. The Kiss

“Action.”

Misha stepped closer to you and cupped your face in his large hands, angling you to him. You inhaled sharply as he captured your lips with his, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Your brain lit up on fire and time stilled with each caress of his perfect lips, softer than you imagined, your hands gripping the lapels of his trench coat. You remained in character. As did he. For a mere second.

Your heart hammered and the butterflies swarmed in your stomach. His tongue slipped to the seam of your lips and you granted him access. He groaned.

White hot electricity shot down straight to your core. Suddenly he was backing you up against the wall, pressing his body against yours. You tugged his trench coat lapels, needing him closer until there was no space left between you both. Your body melted against his, losing yourself in his kiss. His wet velvet tongue stroked yours you lost all your senses, obliterating every thought. He kissed you deeper, harder and you felt his fire and passion, burning you up with the inability to stop. A hand tugged your hips flush with his, spreading the slow burning heat of arousal, making you whimper in anticipation unable to pull away. Your lifted your leg, letting your thigh brush against him, his hand slipped down and grabbed your thigh, pushing himself closer. You felt him against your liquid core, enticing you on, impressive in his slacks.

Those pink, plush lips demanded more in hunger and you let him. You were high on him, drunk on the endorphins he gave with the desire to touch escalating, your fingers itching to feel him.

A loud clap behind you broke the spell.

Misha pulled away panting, his hand slipped away from your leg and you were left breathless, cold and wanting against the wall, weak kneed.

You blinked twice coming back to reality.

You had just kissed Misha like tomorrow wouldn’t come. He had kissed you too, started it.

You looked at Misha, dressed as Castiel, breath coming back second by second.

“What was that for?”

He just stared at you, trying to work out what the hell had just happened. You waited for him to speak, with bated breath.

“I care for you deeply.” He said in Cas’ gruff voice.

“Way to go man.” Jensen clapped Misha on the shoulder.

“Cut!”

You looked at Bobby.

“Lets wrap up there. And reconvene as scheduled tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded and the crew began setting down, abuzz with the latest gossip. Several times you heard the phrases ‘that kiss’ and ‘the kiss’ along with your names making its way around in such a such short time.

Jensen pulled Misha to him and before he could look back you exited and made your way to your trailer.

You wiped off your make up and stripped, quickly changing into your pajamas, ready to unwind. But you were unable to get the kiss out of your head. A loud knock pulled you from thinking about Misha’s lips and the kiss. Your bare feet padded the short way and you opened the trailer door. Misha walked in, towering over you in the small space, shutting the door behind him, keeping prying eyes from wondering. His hair was wild, he was still in costume and he was out of breath with a light sheen to his skin, suggesting he had ran to make it to you.

“I need to know, Y/N, was the kiss real?”

You couldn’t lie. Misha was your best friend. You nodded. A smile broke out and he went to cup your face like before, but you stepped away.

“We can’t, Mish.”

He just stood there.

“Because you know we won’t stop?”

“Because you’re married!” It cut you deep to remind him of his marriage.

He stood silent.

“For a moment, I forgot. Is that bad?” he asked quietly.

You nodded.

“But that kiss… Y/N, you didn’t stop or pull away. I almost… Christ, Y/N, I almost took you there and I would have.”

You had felt his hard on. Felt how much he wanted you. And that had only propelled you.

“Everyone’s already talking about it, Misha.”

“I haven’t wanted anything this badly…”

“I want it too-”

You never got to finish as his perfect lips claimed yours and his hands held yours. His tongue swiped over your lower lip, teeth nibbling as he kissed you. A hand let go and he cupped the back of your head. It was the way he kissed you that made you kiss him back. You couldn’t stop if you tried.

He pushed you back, hitting the table edge. His hands held your ass and you mewled. He picked you up and sat you on the table, pushing your legs open, letting himself in. His lips travelled along your cheek to your ear.

“Then let’s have it.” he whispered.

He kissed you again. You couldn’t argue with his logic. You would just have to think about the consequences tomorrow. You let yourself go in his kiss, letting your hands tug his trench coat off. He helped you get out of it, and helped you undress. He pulled you up and tugged you to the bedroom.

Clothes flew in all directions as you didn’t care. It was about getting out of them and being with Misha. At some point you both landed on the tiny excuse of a single bed, undeterred, mostly undressed, letting Misha pull away the thin cotton material covering your sex. 

He couldn’t stop kissing you. Large hands spread your thighs, opening you to him. He entered you and you cried at how perfect he felt. He groaned, pulling himself away from your lips.

“Jesus…”

You knew.

He wasn’t slow at loving you. Instead he gave you both what you needed. Your thighs trembled as he pounded into you over and over, bottoming out at your cervix. His hands went to your hips, angling you better when he bottomed out, working you towards your high, grunting with each thrust.

You wanted it to last longer. But God, it was coming on fast. Heat flushed through you in waves and you contracted around him hard.

He moaned and cussed.

“Fuck, do it again.”

It wouldn’t be long. He pumped harder and that slightly more faster. You couldn’t stop it. You cried out his name.

Light burst behind your eyes as you exploded around him. He wrapped an arm around your arced back, pulling you closer, feeling each detonation in your sex milk him hard. You sobbed his name, saying it like a mantra over and over.

He roared out and you felt him anchor himself to you as hot spurts flooded you.

Once wasn’t enough.

He was still incredibly hard inside you and began again. A hand cupped your face.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough.”

You felt the same way. Getting it out of your system would no longer be the option. After that, you were hooked.

You didn’t sleep, instead had sex a number of times, wild for each other in different positions, and every time he emptied inside you.


	2. The Morning After

You sat up abruptly, clutching the sheets to your chest, as the pounding on your door trailer continued. Beside you Misha stirred but didn’t wake. You pulled the sheet back on your side and carefully got out of bed, grabbing your dressing gown, throwing it on and tying it rapidly, before leaving the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You glanced back to the bedroom before opening the door.

Jensen stood there in his Dean getup.

“Is Misha here, he doesn’t appear to be in his trailer and he’s not answering his phone.”

“Uhmmmm.”

“You realise you’re meant to be on set?” He peered round you, noting Misha’s trench coat then his tie, seeing your pajama top in the mix of his clothes.

To the side, your bedroom door clicked open.

“Did Misha spend the night here?”

You couldn’t muster the courage to truthfully answer Jensen. Misha stepped into the doorway, a hand on his hip and smiled. He went to kiss you on the cheek, but you moved away, not wanting to draw any more attention than you were already getting. You avoided looking at Jensen, knowing something was turning inside his mind.

“Misha, did you spend the night here?”

From the corner of your eye you saw Misha look at you before looking back to Jensen.

“Yes, I did.”

Jensen took a step down.

“Even after what I said.”

“Yes, Jensen.”

Jensen was quiet.

“This could ruin your marriage, Misha. Did you even think of that?”

Beside you, dressed only in last nights underwear, Misha stood a little taller.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Jensen and I think it’s best if you leave. Y/N and I have to talk.”

Jensen looked at his friend trying to understand his actions.

“Yeah. See you on set.” He said and left.

Misha closed your door and you didn’t give him a chance.

“This was a mistake. A stupid mistake, and it should have never happened.”

His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to find a way to solve what was happening. He went to hold your hands with his which you instantly denied him.

“It can't be…”

“Did Jensen really talk to you before you came here?”

Misha nodded.

“He advised me against going to you, to just leave it as it was. He invited me to his apartment. I accepted the invite and told him I would change. I had no intention, Y/N, I wanted to know, needed to know. Now I know how you feel about me-”

“And because of that I can't be the one to jeopardize our friendship. My feelings for you shouldn’t change what we are.”

“But they have. You can't put something back in the pot once it’s sprung out. And I don’t want to go back to what we had. You can’t. What we had has evolved into something new. I don’t have it in me to hide that.”

“Your wife, Misha. Your wife. You're married! Your kids! Your life!! It is not for me to mess up, and I won't. What if word gets to your wife?”

Misha shook his head.

“It won't. If anything, they're waiting for me to tell her.”

“Will you?”

He sat down and looked at you.

“I, to be honest, I’m not sure. I’m not sure if I want to. I want it to be kept between us.”

“And the whole of Supernatural crew?”

He sighed.

“They don’t know we slept together. They only know we kissed. And Jensen isn’t likely to spread that.”

You nodded. It was true, Jensen wasn’t one for gossip-mongering. Still your anxieties didn’t help. Your next line wasn’t going to make it any easier. For the both of you.

“In the mean time, I think, I think we should… not spend time with each other.” The ball in your throat constricted, making your voice sound thin and a little shrill.

He looked at you in disbelief.

“You can't be serious?”

You were.

“It’s what’s best, Misha. You have to understand that.”

He looked at you and stood up.

“Were you not there, last night? Did you- Y/N, we fucked. We fucked and fucked and fucked. And I’m pretty sure there was a time during last night where we made love,” He stepped closer to you. “Do you think keeping away will change your feelings?” His jaw clenched, clearly hurt by your decision.

It wouldn’t change them, but it meant you wouldn’t be tempted to act on them. You had made love and it had been sensational, connecting together, sharing feelings and being one, but it still didn’t excuse the fact that it was wrong.

He was in front of you, hands on your upper arms, your heart hammering. He was escalating the situation.

“Do you really think pushing me away will fix your feelings. Whatever you feel now, you’ll still feel later, perhaps even more so.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, Misha! One of us should at least try.”

Misha looked like he had something to say, however, when he opened his mouth, no words came out.

After a moment he found the words after fighting to find which ones to say.

“If that’s the way you feel.” He said tersely and moved past you to pick up the trail of clothes leading into the bedroom.

“We should keep a professional front.” You added.

He stopped, head turned slightly to you, hands curled into fists, jaw clenched and then marched to the bedroom.

He didn’t take long. In a matter of minutes he came back out dressed as Castiel. You looked up after wiping a few stray tears away, wiping away any trace of water from your face. He looked at you.

“I can’t talk you out of it, can I?”

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than for him to encase you in his arms. You would miss him, would miss talking to him and hanging with him.

He sighed and left your trailer.

You were sad to watch him go.

*

Misha watched her from across the room. She avoided looking at him, unless she had to. Brilliant as her character and easily distinguishable, he still felt a deep pang in his heart whenever she gave him attention. He fought his every urge to walk across the set and tell her this was ridiculous and to drop it, but he had to respect her wishes.

She was - correction, used to be his best friend. And becoming physical had a awakened a yearning for her, making alive feelings he didn’t think he possessed. He remembered sinking inside her and shifted uncomfortably as he felt the stirrings of desire in his gut and groin.

She had been perfect. Once hadn’t been enough for either of them. As it was, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough of her.

Being physical had ignited a new side to their relationship, but had also ruined any aspect of ever being able to move forward with it. He understood why she had done what she did, but detested the fact she avoided him at all costs. She wouldn’t talk to him or look at him, in fear of her new found feelings.

She wanted him to tell his wife. Had reminded him of his family. He loved his wife and his kids with all his heart and she deserved the truth, but he loved Y/N equally and selfishly.

She had been the sane one after their night together. He wanted to, but at the same time he didn’t. He wanted to be selfish and keep it to himself. Jensen’s words on how it could ruin his marriage was only propelling him into keeping it to himself.

All he wanted more than anything, was his best friend back by his side.


	3. Four Weeks Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is portrayed by Misha’s point of view.

It must have been the smell of coffee. He didn’t know why but it was making her gag. He could clearly see her try to mask the scent as she walked faster out of proximity to the offensive smell. It had made her retreat to the other side of the canteen with a cup of tea- presumably. She was doing what he was, grabbing a quick drink before heading back onto set. He stayed in his seat, knowing he would be unwelcome if he went over to her.

They had something and she knew it too, she had just pulled the shutters down before anything could happen, due to him already having a family. She didn’t want to be the one to blame, protecting herself and him, he guessed.

Once she had finished her small cup, he downed the rest of his, getting up only after she did. Se stopped by to greet a few people then made her way out of the canteen, quickly. He followed as she walked the same way to set.

He wanted to talk to her. Why shouldn’t he be able to? Because it would make her uncomfortable as she figured out her feelings. It had gone on long enough. He missed her. He missed talking to her, without her he felt a part of him was empty. He wanted to approach her, and claim back their friendship. It might not become what it used to be and he could live with that.

She walked on set, him not far behind. Jared, Jensen and their guest Greg was there already conversing. They waved him over, and Y/N. Y/N treated Greg like he was a lifelong friend. It was one of the things she had learnt during her time on the show. She didn’t know how long any person would be on the show, so she welcomed all with open arms as he had done to her it wasn’t long before Robert called them all back to their places.

*

Misha watched her from across the room, rolling his eyes like Castiel would at Greg’s purposely bad throw intended for Y/N’s character to catch. She too rolled her eyes, made an annoyed sound and bent down, as Jensen delivered his line.

“Oh, nice one.”

Misha stood there stoically, giving the man his typical Castiel judging look, keeping her in his peripheral vision. She stood up and blinked a couple times, looking like she had birds tweeting around her. He really wanted to ask if she was all right but he couldn’t. Now wasn’t the right time. Later.

“Next time, try aiming for me…”

Y/N swayed, her line faltering, wavering, her eyes wide, an arm semi-consciously out like she was trying to feel her way. He watched her fall, like a sack of potatoes, crashing into a prop table.

Everything stilled for a second, his heart in his throat. He didn’t think about what he did. After four weeks of not being able to go near her, unless in character, he made it over to her in less than three strides, too fast surprising other around him. He dropped down next to her and called her name.

He tried three times. She did not respond. Jensen, Jared and the crew were now at her side. He needed to give her air. He moved his arm.

“Get back, she needs air.”

Jared and Jensen were great at making sure everyone was back enough for her. He could hear them asking questions, wanting answers he didn’t yet know.

He checked her pulse. She was alive, could feel her blood pumping prominently through her veins. He did a silent ‘thank you’ to the ceiling as he rolled her over and began placing her in the recovery position whilst grabbing a phone and dialling 911.

He didn’t want to touch her head, being fearful she had hurt herself. Her fall hadn’t protected her head.

He had just finished contacting 911 for an ambulance when Y/N groggily came round. She went to move but he placed a hand on her body.

“Y/N, it’s best you don’t move. You collapsed on us. Gave us a fright. You may have hit your head, so I’ve called an ambulance.”

She groaned.

“My head…”

“You fell quite hard. An ambulance is on its way.”

She seemed to understand that, whispering a simple okay to him. That was the second time he had mentioned it and she hadn’t even batted an eyelid. She hated hospitals and he was surprised she wasn’t arguing with him.

“You weren’t out long, just a minute or two. That’s all.”

He could see she wanted to nod, but she looked pained, probably with a killer headache. She licked her lips, assuming they had become quite dry and most likely in need of some water.

*

He wasn’t really her next of kin, but with little family left and too far to travel, he had advised her to place him as emergency contact. It meant he would be contacted first for everything and first to know what was going on.

She was out like a light and he was beside her bed. They wanted to keep her in for observations, he didn’t argue, but he knew Y/N would.

He had promised to keep the team updated with news when he came back, and would most likely be the one to pick her up tomorrow morning.

The door opened and a man with a short, cropped haircut and white doctor’s coat walked in holding a clipboard. he had a name badge on which read Dr. Reed. He gave him his attention for the time being.

“I have to ask, as her first point of contact, are you her partner?”

Misha considered this. Her partner. He wanted to be.

“Of sorts.” He replied.

The doctor nodded and seemed to relax a little.

“Okay. I have her blood test results here,” Misha was rapt. “Everything is fine. In fact, she’s remarkable in the early stage of pregnancy,which would most likely explain her fainting spell. At the moment, she’s on a standard IV, gaining some fluids inside her, preventing dehydration. I suggest she makes an appointment with our maternal unit for future appointments.”

Misha was struck for gold. Pregnant. Y/N was pregnant. With his baby. It had to be his baby. Unless she slept with someone straight after him, but he didn’t think she did. She had been shook up enough about them.

His heart felt like it had swelled three times the size. He was going to be a father again. Finally the ‘separation’ between them would be void, thanks to their addition.

That explained the look she had this morning, avoiding the coffee, going for tea instead.

It would be up to him to tell her. Inside his little bubble burst. As soon as he would tell her she would most likely be horrified that something came to be from their night of passion. Now he felt sick. He hoped she wouldn’t terminate their little bundle. He was excited for this, wanted this. She would hate him. Would blame him most likely and he was prepared for her to throw her punches.

Did he really want to tell the team of this wondrous news when he got back? He knew he should, but he didn’t want to. Instead he wanted to keep it to himself. He didn’t even want to tell the mother of the child, which he knew would blow up in his face. He knew he was being selfish with his decision. But he wanted to protect this little secret.

He vowed to keep her safe, even if he had to do it from afar.

*

He pulled up to the entrance and Y/N was there waiting, ready to go home, or at least back to her trailer. She looked tired. Like she hadn’t gotten enough rest during her one night stay. But that was okay, considering what was happening to her body. She was growing their child.

She walked over and opened the door, sitting beside him. She looked at him, then back to the windshield.

“Thanks. I mean, you didn’t have to-”

He stopped her.

“I wanted to.”

She sighed and started to pull at the seatbelt next to her, clipping herself in, before he set off.

She sniffed, scrunching her nose.

“God, is that coffee?” she sniffed again and then gagged, covering her mouth and nose with a sleeve.

“Ugh, it is. Drive faster.”

He shook his head, smiling a little. She had an aversion to coffee.

“What is it with you and coffee?”

She looked at him.

“I don’t know, but I swear, if you don’t get out of here I’m going to throw up.”

“Right. On it.” He drove out of the hospital, away from the offending smell and into the direction of home- as closest as home could be.


	4. The Friendship Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is portrayed by Misha’s point of view and then the readers. Also it’s a slightly longer chapter.

He parked outside of their apartment complex in Vancouver. When Y/N got the news that her character would become a featured regular like his character he advised her to rent out an apartment in Vancouver and as luck would have it, an apartment in his complex opened up and she snatched it the first chance she got.

They had plenty of happy times here, with only a few floors between them, no one stopped the late night movies and talks and sometimes parties either he or she pulled. All neighbours welcome. Booze was plied of course. When it came to hiatus, it became the time for long meaningful hugs and plans to take part in each others charity campaigns.

These days she never came to his and he had to stop himself from going to her. The parties stopped, the late night hang outs ended and he sat in an apartment void of her presence. He missed her. She had been his best friend and vice versa and this was getting ridiculous. He hoped he could reconnect without tipping her off about her pregnancy. He wanted to enjoy having her around again.

Right now, he sat as she was unbuckling her seatbelt. Her hand touched the car door and he reached out, placing his hand over her free hand.

“Please, this is ridiculous,” He sighed. “I want to talk about this divide between us.”

She relented and stayed, leaning back in her seat.

“I understand why you did it, but enough now. I miss you. I want to go back to how things were. Pre-kiss.”

“We’ll never have that back, Misha. You said it yourself.”

“But we can at least be friends. We can at least be friendlier to each other. I know we won't have what we once did, but maybe we could start anew? I just really miss you.”

Beside him, she stayed in her seat, contemplating his words, finally she turned to look at him.

“What if it gets too awkward? What if one of us tries to kiss the other? Again?” She asked, concerned.

It was meant for him he knew. Out of both of them, it would most likely be him to initiate another kiss and dammit, if he could he would. He knew she wouldn’t and also knew if he tried she wouldn’t let him.

“Y/N, if I’ve learnt anything in my life, I’ve definitely learnt to not repeat something that shouldn’t have happened. I’m proposing we become friends. Just friends. That’s all.”

She turned to look forward. She was thinking on it.

“I just feel guilty…”

“Stop. What’s done is done. We can't change that, but we can move on from it.”

She nodded. One of her favourite things about him (she told him), was that he always had sound advice and today he knew she couldn’t argue with that.

“You’re right.”

He didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he knew.

“Okay, but I have a condition. I don’t think we should go round each others apartments in the evenings.”

That was one of the things he had been looking forward to start back up. He swallowed his disappointment and nodded.

“Of course. Well, we can still practice any pages we get together, since our characters have become closer.”

“Sure.”

She smiled, then tilted her head in confusion.

“I do have to ask, why are we here? Why not at the set?”

“You got the day off. All your scenes have been moved to tomorrow. Ordained by higher up.”

Y/N sighed.

“There’s a lot of work to do. And it needs to be done, I don’t have time to rest, I-”

He grabbed her hand again.

“Y/N, it will be fine. Just rest. Robert allowed me today to check in on you regularly.”

She gave him that look.

“You should go back.They need you more than me, besides I’m quite capable of of spending a day alone.”

Misha didn’t miss a beat.

“You spend all your days alone.”

She didn’t say anything to that.

“Come on, It’ll make a nice change and a nice introduction for our friendship renewal.”

“You won't let me say no, will you?”

“Nope.” He popped the P and began to get out of the car.

He knew by becoming her friend again he could keep a closer check on her and hopefully influence a healthier lifestyle for the baby she didn’t know she was having. He knew he was doing it for his own selfish reasons, but he couldn’t stop now.

*

Friends. You and Misha were now friends. Again. Seeing him in your apartment made it feel like nothing had happened between you both, worse still, he looked like he belonged. Having him around, instilled you with a sense of peace, but now, you had an air of caution. It scared you how right it was for him to be in the same space as you. He wasn’t meant for you. He already had someone else. He was meant for her.

He carried your drinks in and placed them both on eclectic coasters. Misha hadn’t gone for coffee, but instead had preferred tea. The same as you. he passed over the remote.

“So, what do you fancy watching? The Walking Dead? Bit of Vampire Diaries?” He smiled when you scrunched your nose in disgust. “No. Okay, hmm Supernatural?” He suggested, resting his chin on top of the remote.

You shook your head, giving him an odd look.

“God, no, you know I don’t like watching myself on TV.”

Whatever he would put on it didn’t matter, you were going to be too distracted to watch.

“Oh, I know.” He switched the TV on and using the remote navigated his way to Netflix, where he proceeded to search for a particular programme.

“iZombie?”

You had seen the icon on your Netflix, but hadn’t thought much of it. Zombies weren’t your cup of tea.

“I know you’re not into zombies, or scary movies, but I promise this isn’t scary and it’s good.”

You would have to trust his judgement on that.

And he was right. It was good and it wasn’t scary. The only scary thing was how he knew what you’d like. He always knew. You were hooked, yet distracted. You couldn’t help but notice the comfortable slouch of his body on your couch, didn’t want to like how his leg felt touching yours and you couldn’t stop yourself peeking when his lips curved over the mug when he took a sip of tea. It was torture. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

Misha had been right. No matter what you felt about him, it wouldn’t change. It didn’t when you kept your distance. Instead it had been torture. You had missed him, so much more over those few weeks, obsessed about him, but never asking about him. He had been your best friend for about five years. His constant presence had been a comfort and without it you felt empty and alone.

It was dumb how much you loved him.

You hadn’t thought about it before. Of course it made sense now. You loved him. The kiss, the night after and the distance away put it into perspective for you. It was wrong. You couldn’t love a married man, yet you did.

You didn’t know whether or not to tell him. It would alter this new attempt at friendship he had kindly offered. It wouldn’t go away. The statement pecked away at your conciousness, miring any other thoughts from coming.

You got up, making an excuse to make a drink and forgetting to offer him one.

“I can make it.”

You shook your head.

“I can make a drink, Misha.”

“I know but you're meant to be resting.”

He wasn’t going to let up.

“It’s one drink.”

You were anxious to get some more space between the two of you. You walked into your kitchenette and flicked on the kettle.

“Y/N, is everything okay? I mean, you almost leapt out of your seat, you decline my offer when you know you should be resting and you seem to want to make more space between us.”

“You're thinking too much into it.”

“You're holding your mug pretty damn tight and it’s still hot, as I can see the steam from it.” You looked into your hot mug. Then put it aside. “What the hell’s wrong. Do you not want be friends any more?”

Oh God.

“I can't tell you. It’s dumb.”

The kettle was loud at this point, frustrating him, making him flip the switch back up, ceasing the kettle to boil.

“I don’t care if it sounds dumb. You’ve told me plenty of ‘dumb’ things before.”

You had your back to him.

“It would change this new dynamic.”

He made a sound, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh.

“Please, just tell me.”

It was on the tip of your tongue. Your hands held onto the counter, biting your lip, forcing yourself to stop yourself from telling.

“Is it bad?”

“You shook your head, then nodded.

“For me, I guess.”

“Whatever it is I bet we can figure out what to do. I just- I want you to be comfortable with telling me stuff again. I missed that.”

It was coming. And crap, it was getting harder to keep it in. He shouldn’t know, but dammit.

“I love you.”

You didn’t look at him, a weight of relief off you. He was quiet for a moment.

“Oh…”

He didn’t have to love you back. Better if he didn’t. Now you turned to him. He stood there, looking at you.

“Forget I said anything. Forget I even said those words. I’ll take them back.”

He moved then, and grasped your upper arms in his hands. You looked up into his ultramarine blue eyes.

“God, no. Don’t take them back and I certainly don’t want to forget.”

You could hear his heart in his chest beating hard against his ribcage. He rested his forehead against yours.

“This changes things, Mish.”

A hand left your arm and he put a finger to your lips making you suck in a breath.

“It will only change if you want it to,” He paused for a moment. “I will never forget those words, Y/N. You’re being honest with yourself and with me.”

His finger moved away, for his hand to cup your jaw, his lush full lips, brushing yours.

“We can't” You barely whispered.

“I’m telling you how I feel.” He responded and pressed his lips to yours.


End file.
